


Wander

by ShadowWolf_762x54mm



Series: Writing Practice [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen, Post-Apocalypse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-13 05:20:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28523085
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShadowWolf_762x54mm/pseuds/ShadowWolf_762x54mm
Summary: The traveler walks. He eats. He sleeps. And he wakes to repeat the cycle.
Series: Writing Practice [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2087595





	Wander

_ How many years had it been? Ten, twenty, a hundred, one? _

_ How long had he been alone?  _

The traveler had asked these questions, time and time again. Yet no clearer idea was given to him. He walked amongst the tombs of the dead, the remnants of civilization, the final testament to his people’s accomplishments.

He walked amongst the collapsing buildings and architecture of years long since passed. He walked amongst the parks and valleys where children used to play. He walked alone. 

Waking to the morning light, he packed up the small camp he had made the night before, taking inventory as he did so. Tent,  _ check _ . Food,  _ five days worth _ . Water,  _ enough for another day _ . Tools,  _ check _ . 

The sun beat harshly down upon the figure as they walked. It hadn’t rained in a long time, and the air was harsh and arid. Walking into the remains of a building, he walked through each room, pausing, after seeing a curious sight.

A cradle, where a baby would have slept. Long since abandoned and empty, yet as he observed the room around him, he spotted a toy, a small bear seemingly dropped as its inhabitants fled. Picking up the toy, he tied it to his bag and continued walking.

Stopping to collect some water from a nearby river, he set his equipment down, as he gathered the proper tools to purify the river water. Sitting down he relaxed as he waited for the water to boil. The sun would set soon, but that was fine, he had nowhere to be, nowhere to go to.

He slept.

_ He dreamed of blue skies, of the laughter of children. He dreamed of the thrum of life, of petty arguments, cheerful laughter, and all the trappings of human interaction and discourse. He remembered the sirens. He remembered the screams. He remembered the blazing heat, the scratching of nails against the doors as they screamed and begged to be let in as they pleaded to ask- asking him to-! _

He opened his eyes to the morning sun. He rose from his position, collected his supplies, and continued walking. The fallen city turned into open fields the further he walked.  _ How many miles had he walked? _ He had long since stopped counting.

He stopped to look at the city sign, to see where he was, but the sign had long since deteriorated into an unreadable form. He turned and continued walking. The fields where he once saw teeming with plant life, were left to ruin. It was a barren waste for as long as he could see. He continued walking.

_ What point is there to traveling, there is no one left?  _ He wondered why he walked. He could not explain why the traveler just walked. 

Days passed, as he continued the cycle: Walk, Eat, Sleep, Repeat. 

**Walk** .

He walked. For days, for hours, for months, he did not know, yet he would walk.

**Eat.**

When he felt the necessity, he would stop and eat what meager rations he had. 

**Sleep** .

When there was no more daylight, and the traveler felt weary from his travels, he would sleep. He would dream of times long since passed, and when he awoke…

**Repeat** . 

… he would rise from his rest, and do it again.

On a night, just as any other night, as the traveler sat around his campfire, the sound of a snapping twig caught his attention. His head snapped to the source. Curious, he walked towards it, long having given up on violence and fear. Finding the source of the broken twig, he found the teddy bear, dropped, as if someone had tried to take it. Curious. He watched the lands around him, finding no one. Shrugging, he went back to his tent and slept again.

As he walked through a dwelling, he searched for food supplies, as his own supplies began to dwindle. He opened a cabinet, and reached for the item, when he paused, hearing a sound.  _ What was that noise? _ He listened.

_ Footsteps. _

He grabbed the food, as he walked towards the noise. The traveler heard footsteps walking past the threshold of the room. Walking outside he found-

Nothing.

There was no evidence anyone else was there… except… the teddy bear was sitting by the entrance, looking out.

The traveler picked up the bear once more, and looked outside, wondering if there would be another person, the first he had seen in...years. He shook his head.  _ Maybe the time took a toll on him. _ The traveler admitted he did not know the answer to that himself. Tying the bear to his bag, he once more started walking, for reasons he did not know himself, he continued his travels.

He did not know how long it was until another occurrence happened. One morning, he simply awoke to find the bear sitting on his chest. Another he found it sitting on a rock, pointing in a direction. With no reason to not follow, he chose to walk in the direction the bear had directed. 

As the bear started to point towards more and more directions, he started to wonder, for the first time in many years.  _ Where was the bear leading him? _ He reasoned it could lead to a great many answers, yet, none deterred him. For some reason, he began to feel hopeful. Something he had not felt since….since….

The traveler walked on. He followed each direction. Crossed multiple mountains. Past many cities. He walked. With each step he grew more curious, he did not know where this path led, yet he was more intrigued with each step. There were no answers, and yet...there was hope. Hope that maybe, just maybe….

The traveler followed a trail, he had been hiking up this mountain for the past couple of days, how many he did not count, when he rounded the corner and saw...green.

For the first time in years, there was plant life. Not just any plant life, but trees, a forest full of rich vibrant trees. He couldn’t help himself, he laughed. For the first time in years, he laughed. His laughter cut off suddenly. There was….

A bird.

He stopped to listen and realized, for the first time in...years….he was listening to the sounds of birds. There was  _ life _ . For the first time in many years, he collapsed to his knees and wept, joyous tears flowed from his eyes. 

**Author's Note:**

> Any comments or advice for writing tips would be greatly appreciated. I realize few will read this, but I hope you enjoyed it, and have a wonderful day. This is the second in my attempt to improve my writing skills.


End file.
